18 year old Death
I sighed, listening to Mother and Paula sing Happy Birthday tunelessly. I could care less about my birthday. The flat was scarcely decorated, except for a banner and cake on the table.
I scoffed, flipping my long black with blue highlights behind my shoulders. I wore mostly black, red, dark purple and dark blue. Dark colours have always appealed to me. And not just because I'm a goth.
My mother preferred lighter colours and other 'girly' stuff. She's also overbearingly sweet, it can be so sickening at times. She has the appearance of a typical mother, with short choppy blonde hair.
Paula is a bit more rough looking but not so she looks like a gangster or anything. Her hair is dark brown and in a ponytail. She wears a white shirt and dungarees. Her skin is deeply tanned. Paula is mother's wife. They met at a garage and have been together ever since.
My father's never been around. Mother told Paula that he left before she even knew she was pregnant. That's the same story she always told me. Maybe it's for the best, some fathers abandon their children for all sorts of reasons. I just hope mine had a really good one.
Getting annoyed, I got up from the table and trudged down the corridor to my room. My dark haven, I lovingly call it. Slamming the door slightly, I flopped onto my bed.
I'm in no way normal. I've always had an element of mystery hanging over me. It's been that way since 18 years ago.
This year was going to be different. I was about to find out.
